Name of beta reader: Kerry
Character codes: Spock/Saavik, McCoy, Kirk
Disclaimer: Star Trek is copyrighted by Paramount/Viacom
Summary: While insisting Spock is called when Saavik falls ill, McCoy reflects on how duty does not always come first for the Vulcan.
Damn stubborn pointy eared...Vulcan! Leonard McCoy was convinced that if he had a strip of latnim for every time he had thought or uttered those words, he would have enough money to make the wealthiest Ferengi cringe green with envy. He was also of the firm conviction that not admitting to anything less than perfect health was a point of honor among Vulcans.
"Saavik, at least let me contact Spock," McCoy appealed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.
Saavik looked up from her research, giving the appearance she had been completely absorbed. She raised an eyebrow in the gesture that said, ‘I am losing my patience, but Vulcan edict prevents me from doing anything’. McCoy had become adapt at recognizing it over his long association with Spock.
"Doctor, as I have pointed out to you numerous times throughout the duration of this discussion, Spock is heavily involved in delicate trade negotiations which he can not be called away from, and certainly not for minor ailments."
McCoy could have sworn Saavik's long graceful fingers were twitching with the desire to get back to work. He snorted. "You mean those pigheaded aristocrats who only care about how rich they get?" His voice was full of contempt for two groups feuding over trade rights on a small world within the Federation.
"Doctor, your personal opinion of the FX/SKU feud is irrelevant. Spock is still principal mediator and as such would not want to be disturbed over this inconsequential matter." Saavik spoke with finality that indicated to McCoy that her patience really was wearing very thin.
"Thi-ya-kat-va flu is not a 'inconsequential matter'! It significantly reduces your energy levels and you will require an increase in sleep, not to mention the fact that your fever is rising and the potential for dehydration exists. Spock is the only person I know who can convince you to rest when you're in the middle of your beloved projects, despite the fact Howes practically ordered you to relax during this shore leave!" All the medical info was correct, albeit slightly embellished.
He wanted them to spent time together.
Spock and Saavik had been bonded for a little over two standard years, and in that time they had rarely been alone for more than five minutes. He knew that if he brought the subject up with either of them, they would pass it off as compliance to busy schedules or perfectly normal for Vulcan bondmates. Years of interpreting Vulcan facial expressions had allowed him to recognize the wistful looks that passed between the couple when they believed no one was watching.
Leonard reluctantly concluded that Uhura labeling him as a hopeless romantic was becoming more accurate as the years progressed. He simply believed that it wasn't right for the pair to be kept apart so much. Contrary to Saavik's belief, Spock would want to be informed. If at all possible, he would drop almost anything if something was wrong with her.
He always had...
...even from the first days when McCoy and Kirk first learned about the Romulan hybrid at Starfleet Academy.
"Reel her in, Bones!"
James Kirk's excited cry could scarcely be heard over the crashing of the holographic waves. It probably wasn't how the Academy pictured the admiral testing the prototype new technology, but who was going to know? McCoy let out a grunt of frustration as their small boat was pounded by violent swells, which Kirk insisted be added to the thrill of the adventure. Spock was sitting at port, taking full advantage of his natural ability to balance, and offered to assist them. The other men stubbornly refused, not wanting to be cheated out of the full experience by superior Vulcan strength. After ten minutes of heaving and puffing, the determined shipmates landed the considerable sized fish.
"Quick, Spock, weigh her!" Kirk panted, his cheeks were flushed with the effort.
Spock dutifully measured the fish, vegetarian concerns squeamish but not overwrought for a fake animal. Kirk and McCoy were letting out cries of satisfaction and slapping each other on the back, heedless of the perilous angles at which the boat tilted. The incessant beeping of Spock's personal communicator interrupted their joyful mood.
Removing his communicator from his fisherman's outfit, Spock answered it, ignoring the cries of protest from his shipmates. Frowning, Spock answered whoever was calling in rapid Vulcan before ending the communication with a curt farewell.
"Computer, end holodeck program," he ordered sharply.
"What's wrong, Spock?" Kirk asked as the holodeck grid reappeared before them. Both he and McCoy had to struggle to keep up with the long-legged pace the Vulcan set. They ignored the wide-eyed stares from the technicians coming for the admiral's report on the fledgling holodeck.
"It is Saavik," Spock said as they neared the corridor leading to his quarters.
"Is she sick?" McCoy pressed.
As they neared Spock's quarters, McCoy could see that Saavik and another officer were waiting outside. As soon as they were in hearing range, the officer next to Saavik spoke.
"I wish to lay charges of indecent conduct against Lieutenant Saavik," he declared hotly, shooting the composed Vulcan a withering glance.
"On what grounds, Ensign Timins?" Spock inquired raising an eyebrow slightly.
"She threw me across the gym." A flush appeared on his cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
"Is this true, Saavik?" Spock asked.
"It is an exaggerated and overdramatic report of an actual event, sir," she said calmly, meeting his hard gaze.
Meaning, McCoy translated, that the basic part of it’s true.
"For what purpose?" Spock questioned, his eyebrow rising further.
"Ensign Timins claimed that I had performed acts of sexual intercourse with you in order to get my academic record. I took offense to this."
McCoy choked slightly, and Kirk turned a steely gaze to the cornered ensign who was now sweating profusely.
"Follow me, Ensign," he said, leaving McCoy alone with the two Vulcans. McCoy almost felt sorry for the foolish Timins... almost.
"Saavik, you must not allow other's ignorant assumptions to affect you." Spock was rebuking her with a level of tenderness McCoy had rarely seen.
Saavik blushed slightly. "But Spock, he assumed that you would..."
Spock interrupted her softly. "Your defense of me is noble, but unnecessary."
To McCoy's delighted shock, Spock added, "Conceivably, a break from your schedule might prevent further such accusations from causing physical violence. From what I have been told, the alignment of planets tonight is quite ascetically pleasing. Perhaps you would care to join me at 2100?"
McCoy could have sworn he heard a touch of nervousness in the Vulcan's voice.
"That would be most enjoyable, but do you not have an important social event to attend?" she inquired.
"Nothing that cannot be altered," Spock told her, ignoring McCoy muffled laughter. "I suggest you avoid Ensign Timins for the foreseeable future," he advised before dismissing her, his eyes remaining on her retreating form until McCoy voice drew his attention.
"So, the senior officers dance that Kirk and Uhura have slaved over can be rescheduled, can it?" he asked in amazement.
"Yes, Doctor, it can," was the soft response
McCoy's reverie was interrupted sharply by the shattering of a glass against the tiled floor. Saavik had dropped the glass of water she'd been holding, and was staring at the ruins with unfocused eyes. A shine from perspiration had appeared on her brow, and when she spoke her voice was dazed.
Mentally cursing himself, Leonard McCoy helped the staggering Vulcan from the computer console to the large bed in center of the room. He should have seen this; Saavik's fixation on her work was a result of a surge of the Vulcan equivalent to adrenaline, which commonly happened before the fever forced the body to sleep.
A healer was rarely called in these situations, as this was what humans termed a 24-hour bug. A family member or close friend usually watched over the victim until the fever passed. McCoy could stay with Saavik, making sure she didn't dehydrate and help in other ways, and he was willing to do it -- but if a certain Vulcan found out later that he wasn't told... It was definitely time to call Spock.
After doing so, McCoy re-entered the bedroom and sat beside Saavik, watching her sleep peacefully. Spock had indicated that he would be there as soon as possible. As predicted he had immediately postponed most of his engagements. It startled McCoy a good deal when Spock arrived an hour later, three hours before he was expected.
"How is she, Doctor?" was his immediate question upon entering the room.
"She should be fine, just needs to sleep it off," McCoy whispered, vacating the seat next to the bed and offering it to Spock who slipped into it soundlessly.
Saavik's eyes immediately opened as Spock gently took her hand, her confused gaze fixing on him as he greeted her softly.
"You did not need to come, Spock," she admonished quietly.
"Yes, I did," he corrected. "You needed me."
"But the trade negotiations--" she protested.
"Can be altered, Saavik. Right now, I am required here."